


The Brand

by MischiefMakingMagpie



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Hurt, Injury, Scarring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4601637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefMakingMagpie/pseuds/MischiefMakingMagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack shushed and cooed at him and Timothy watched as the white hot vault insignia descended and felt the waves of heat before it even pressed to his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brand

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a larger work with an OC but it works as a stand alone as well. A glimpse into if Jack had given Timothy a scar to resemble his own.

Timothy edged into the large office, it was still a bit odd thinking that his boss was now the actual head of one of the largest if not largest weapons manufacturer in the galaxy. He supposed that he had to take back his smart comment about the the guy just being a programmer and that hiring him had been over kill. Glancing around he took in his surroundings, each time 

Jack added a little more of his "personal" touch to the office. Jack moved fast, it had been just under two weeks since the previous programmer had taken control, and the events that lead up to his new position of power still eluded the doppelgänger. Though he knew that it was most likely less than savory and personally he'd rather not know.

As he cautiously ventured further into the room his gaze fell upon Jack who stood with his back to him, staring out at the view of Elpis and the quiet of space. After a moment the newly 'appointed' president turned, his eyes sharp and glinting with something that set the doppelgängers teeth on edge. 

"Kiddo, so glad you could make it."Jack said a wicked smirk finding its way to his face.

The walk to the front of the room felt longer than it actually was and under Jack's unnerving stare Timothy felt as though his feet were turning to lead with each step. And by the time he reached the desk he had wished that ground had opened up and swallowed him whole.

"Sir." He managed, his stance ridged an unsettling tension resting in his spine.

Jack rounded the desk and leaned back against the expensive wood nonchalantly. 

"Whadda you think about what I've done with the place, hm?" The CEOs tone was light and Timothy didn't like it. Still he humored the man and looked around briefly, though he made sure to keep Jack in his peripheral vision.

"It's nice sir... More, ah, homey?" He replied.

Jack laughed and grinned.

"Little more me isn't it kitten?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Y-yes." He managed a nervous laugh. "You certainly move fast sir."

"Gotta move fast with this kinda thing sweet cheeks, gotta let all the mouth breathers know who the big man in charge is." Jack leaned forward and Timothy held his ground watching the other man like a hawk. "You see when any of these peons walk into this office they are going to know who owns them. Who holds their goddamn leashes."

Timothy swallowed and nodded but then decided a vocal agreement might be better.

"Uh yeah, Definitely good thinking sir." His voice surprisingly level.

"Of course it is, it's me." Jack replied cruelly and patted his double's cheek none too gently.

Timothy startled at the impact but otherwise remained perfectly still, observing carefully as the other man leaned back. 

"Now cupcake as much as I love chatting about my new digs, love it, that isn't why I called you in here. We got some business to take care of."

He did not like the sound of that.

"Take a seat." Jack motioned to the chair facing the desk.

He hadn't noticed before but the chair was... Different than the one that he was usually ordered to "take a seat in." This one seemed sturdier, and more uncomfortable. Gingerly he moved towards the chair and Jack moved back around behind the desk. Settling in his seat Timothy found that in fact he was right and that is was far more uncomfortable than the ones he was used to and he briefly wondered if maybe if it was a new tactic to make who ever visited Jack in his office was as uncomfortable as possible.

He had expected the other man to take a seat and begin whatever issue he had been brought into discuss. However the CEO merely bent, fishing for something behind his desk before pulling out what looked to be a metal rod with an insignia on the end. He couldn't really make it out from his position but it almost looked like something used to brand livestock.

"Uh sir." He begin, he didn't like this, not at all.

Jack didn't reply but reached back down to continue his rummaging.

"J-Jack...?" He ventured again and against his better judgment began to rise from his seat.

He wasn't quite sure what had happened, but suddenly he couldn't move; in a panic he looked down. From the sides of the armrest two metal cuffs had risen and clamped tightly around his wrist; fearfully he tried to gain leverage on the ground only to find his ankles restrained as well.

"Jack, Jack! what's going on?" He said, his voice rising with panic, he pulled at his restraints only to have them tighten to the point of where they dug painfully into his bones.

Jack let out a lazy sigh and set a blow torch on the desk next to the iron rod. At first the CEO didn't say anything as he rounded the desk, Timothy already in a cold sweat as he watched the man move.

"Ah you know I hate to do this to ya pumpkin." He picked up the the rod spinning the handle lightly in his grip. Timothy's gaze fell to the end...oh god he knew that symbol. "They spent so much frickin time makin’ that face of yours perfect." Jack continued airily, grabbing the blow torch off the desk as well.

Timothy bucked in the chair, desperately trying to get free.

"But after that little...incident on Elpis I can't exactly have you running around looking like that." He lit the torch, the hissing sound filling the quiet space. The CEO brought the cool metal up to the flame, giving the doppelgänger a surprisingly placid stare before moving the brand beneath the scorching heat.  
"I mean but think about it, you signed up to be me and hey! You still get to be me! We just have to make a few. little. adjustments." The smile that quirked at Jack's lips made Timothy sick to his stomach.

"P-please I can just wear the mask, no one has to know!" He begged he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. 

Jack tsked him as he continued rotate the insignia beneath the flame, making sure every part was white hot.

"That's not how it works sweet cheeks." Jack advanced on him until he loomed over him.

Timothy suddenly found himself falling backwards, the chair reclining as the other man pressed a booted foot to a small button near the base of the the chair. He could feel tears streaming down his face now and it felt as though his lungs were going to burst through his chest and his heart would explode.  
Jack turned off the torch and admired his work before resting the canister between the doppelgängers spread legs. Timothy tried to move away from it as if it was just as hot as the brand.

Jack adjusted his grip on the rod and looked down at the other man, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips. 

"Now hold really still pumpkin." He said gently almost as if he was speaking to a child.

"Jack, Jack please." Timothy begged as the shadow of the the brand drew closer.

Jack shushed and cooed at him and Timothy watched as the white hot vault insignia descended and felt the waves of heat before it even pressed to his face.


End file.
